Talking Through It

Amanda sat down across from John.

John had forgone his usual jeans and t-shirt for a very dapper suit and tie. He still had a friendly smile, but there was something more aloof about him now. Something that demanded respect.

Amanda, meanwhile, was mostly dressed as she was always dressed. Her ear-length black hair wasn't currently covered by her baggy grey sweater's hood, but she was thinking about changing that because of how nervous she was. Both the hoodie and her loose jeans could hide a lot of curves, not that she had them. She also wore some boring sneakers and white socks. Peeking out from under the hoodie was a green t-shirt, also extremely baggy. If she unzipped her hoodie, it would have shown an excellently realized pun involving a comic book character and cereal. Underneath her clothes were plain white cotton boxers and a matching sports bra.

The only thing that was different about her outfit was the choker on her neck. It was something stretchy, like latex, and acted like it was painted onto her neck. On the front was a floral design in some sort of shiny, silvery metal with a large ruby set in the center. Underneath, in the same metal as the flower, was a loop. It had looked expensive and was extremely provocative, so Amanda had only put it on when she was standing outside John's door. She didn't want to wear it on the subway.

She nervously looked around John's basement room. "Kinda feels like an interrogation room..." she said nervously.

John smiled. "The process works best when you're in a submissive mindset," he said. "If you're comfortable with being lesser, then it will ease the process of becoming lesser."

"Well," Amanda said, looking around nervously, "when you put it like that..."

"You're free to leave at any time," John said.

"But this collar's a mind control collar, right?" Amanda asked. "Isn't it already... you know? Controlling me?"

"It's a little more complicated," John said. "Hmm. How best to describe it? The collar itself is only part of the equation. As we talk about our desires and visualize them in our minds. The collar will slowly change you according to our desires. As for how permanent it is, the way I understand it, if you take the collar off without having sex, you'll instantly revert back to how you were before, and putting the collar back on will cause the changes to come back as well."

He paused. "However, if you orgasm three times while wearing the collar, the effects become permanent. And if you take the collar after one or two orgasms, I can't safely say that you'll fully return to normal or that the change back will be instantaneous."

"Right," Amanda said. "I'm still not sure how much I trust you."

"Why is that?" John asked.

"Well, I mean, isn't it obvious?" Amanda asked. "You're going to try and control my mind. That's not something I can take lightly, y'know?"

"Amanda," John said, "we've been friends since we were four. If you can't trust me with this, then who hell are you going to be able to trust?"

"That's not how it goes in the stories."

"There are a few where it's consensual," John pointed out.

"Not the hot ones," Amanda said.

"Hey," John said, reaching out and touching her hand, "I promise that this will make you happy. And any time you want, you can just take that collar off and walk out and I'll never mention this unless you bring it up."

Amanda closed her eyes. "Ok," she said after a deep breath. After a while of John simply waiting, she opened her eyes and said, "ok, let's do this."

"So, how do you think you'd change?" John asked, removing his hand from Amber's and reclining extravagantly. "What does a brainwashed sex slave Amanda look like?"

"Well," Amanda said, "It's not the physical change that, um, that gets me horniest. I-I mean, that is hot, but that's not really the most important. It's more the mental. And more the fact that I'm being shaped for someone else's pleasure. I don't know how to explain it to, y'know, a dom, but there's something about the idea of someone shaping me like clay that just does it for me. That's more important to me than how I look. Or even how I act."

"But you do have ideas, right?" John asked. "You're not into uglification, or getting smarter, or a reduction of sex drive, are you?"

"No!" Amanda said. "I mean unless you want-" John raised an eyebrow. "I mean, um... uh..." Amanda sputtered to a stop.

"I take it there's also an element of becoming more submissive as well?" John asked, somewhat coyly. "I mean, how much of that outfit you're wearing is about wanting someone to force you to dress slutty?"

"I mean, there's other reasons!" Amanda said, her olive face turning pink. As she spoke, she was looking everywhere except John and making expansive gestures. "I mean, there's, um, comfort. And other things. And not getting stared at! That's a thing!"

John just smiled as Amanda talked. "Amanda," he said, "I think you like being humiliated."

"No..." Amanda said, guilt in her voice, hands gripping the table, and legs rubbing against each other.

John raised his eyebrow again. Amanda continued squirming. "Really?" John asked. "Me having you at a disadvantage isn't getting you soaking wet?" Amanda blushed harder and began looking at the ground.

"Yeah," Amanda mumbled, then said louder, "yes."

John smiled. "I think I know a way to make it more exciting for you," he said. "Stand up." Amanda hesitantly obeyed. "Now," John said, "show me your cunt."

Amanda blinked. "I... what?" she asked.

"I said show me your cunt," John said. "Pull down your jeans and underwear and show it to me."

Amanda, her face burning, complied. "I-It's not shaved down there," she said as she revealed her matted bush. "I mean, I wanted to be shaved and waxed, but- Oh! That feels weird." As she spoke, all the hair not her eyebrows, head, and lashes began to retract back into her skin. "I guess it really does work." As she spoke, she squirmed, rubbing her thighs together.

"This excites you, doesn't it?" John asked.

"...No?"

"Really?" John asked. "Touch yourself and tell me whether or not you're wet."

Amanda obeyed, running a finger along her folds. She shuddered at her own touch. "Ohmigod..." she gasped.

"So," John asked, "why are you getting so turned on?"

"B-because I'm t-touching myself for you," Amanda said through gasps and whines. "I'm not d-doing... oh God... I'm not doing this for myself. I-I'm becoming a dumb little horny pet for you!"

"I thought you liked being smart," John said, somewhat casually."

"Yeah, but getting it ripped away is just sooooo hot!" Amanda said, now grunting as she fingerfucked herself. As she spoke, her voice began to change, changing from a lower tomboy voice to a breathy bimbo. "Being your little fuckslave who can barely think for herself is, like, soooooo hoooot. I wanna speak like your little valley girl anime bimbo."

"You want to be my slave?" John asked, unable to hide his own arousal any longer. Amanda, who was having trouble with her words while humping her own fingers. "Well, I want you only to act dumb and think of yourself as dumb."

"You... want an equal?" Amanda said, stopping her masturbation.

"No," John said. "I want a slave who's smart enough to obey my orders. A slave who's smart enough to be loyal to me. A slave who's smart enough to know she's dumber than me. A slave who's smart enough to know that I know what's best. Understand?"

As John spoke, Amanda had resumed furious masturbation. "Yes John," she babbled. "Oh yes, John. I'm your slave, John. No, Amanda shouldn't be talking in- talking like- talking like normal person like you. Amanda doesn't talk like that!"

"So," John said, "If you're my slave, what does that make me?"

"Nnngh, Amanda's too stupid to know that," Amanda said breathlessly, her frantic strokes causing her to intersperse her speech with little moans and gasps. "You should tell Amanda so she knows."

"Very well," John said. "You may call me master."

"Yes, master!" Amanda said, her self-pleasuring hitting a new frenzy. "Nnnnghhhghuhohhhyes Master!" Her speech quickly became mindless babble and moaning, with the phrase "Yes Master" being the only recognizable part. Then orgasm rocked her body.

She fell back with a gasp as her knees gave out, barely catching the table with a hand that had previously been stroking her pussy. The other was still desperately pumping even after she fell. Grunting and gasping, she sat on the carpeted basement floor, trying to extend the glow of the orgasm.

Slowly, she stopped. Slowly, the expression of need and ecstasy on her face became one of confused concern. "Wait..." she said, her voice almost her old voice, "I orgasmed... that's bad?"

"Why?" John asked. "It can't be because you're a step closer to being my slave. After all, isn't that why you put on the collar?"

"But, like..." Amanda said, her voice returning to bimbo mode, "don't I only get two more orgasms?"

"Only before it's permanent," John said. "After that, you'll get as many orgasms as you want."

Amanda's face darkened in confusion. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it as if the thought had fled. Finally, she asked, "So, like, why does Amanda still feel like something's wrong?"

"Maybe it's because you've just cum and I haven't?" John asked.

Amanda's face brightened. "Oh yes!" She said. "Master's so smart!" She frowned. "But how can Amanda fix this?" she asked with a pout. "How can Amanda give Master an orgasm without having one herself?"

"Well," John said, pulling his chair back and unzipping his fly so he could pull out his cock, "you could give me a blowjob, I suppose." Amanda blinked in surprise. John smiled. "Isn't my dick perfect? The perfect length, the perfect width for every place I'd wish to fuck you?"

As he spoke, Amanda's eyes grew wide. She slowly transitioned from her undignified sprawl on her butt to her hands and knees. "But... but..." she said, "Amanda's lips are too thin for dick sucking." As she said this, her lips began to grow. "They aren't nice and pillowy enough for big, big cock. And Amanda was such a prude. Amanda's last boyfriend wanted his cock sucked, but Amanda was mean and wouldn't do it." As she spoke, she began to crawl towards John on her hands and knees, licking her inflating lips. "And Amanda doesn't know how. Amanda doesn't know to worship your beautiful cock or tease it. Amanda isn't like those girls in the porn videos who can take their man's cock all the way." She nuzzled John's legs aside like a pet so she could crawl between John's legs and kneel between them. "But Amanda will try." She licked John's dick from base to tip. "Yeah." She kissed the tip. "Amanda will try her best."

Then she lowered her head onto John's cock. With gagging, slurping sounds, and contented moans, she bobbed up and down on it, going deeper each time. In the meantime, she stroked his inner thigh through his pants with one hand while her other hand stroked his balls.

"Oh yeah..." John grunted. "Oh yeah... you're so... guh!" He shuddered, spurting his load into Amanda's mouth. But Amanda kept sucking. Despite her ministrations, though, eventually, John ran dry and his dick began to deflate. Before it entirely lost rigidity, John pulled her off by her short black hair with a slight pop as his penis left her throat. A strand of drool and cum briefly connected her mouth to his penis, but it quickly broke, landing on her chest, staining her hoodie.

She giggled, her not focusing on anything. "Wow... that was amazing, Master!" she gushed. "Amanda's throat reshaped itself for your cock! Amanda could feel it. It felt so yummy!" She looked down at her clothes, now disappointed. "But Amanda doesn't look like a slut. Amanda's not dressed one, and her hair is all wrong for being Master's little whore. The only trashy thing about Amanda is master's cum all over Amanda's hoodie and face. But good little sluts" she paused to lick the cum off her cheek and chin, "always get every last drop of their master's cum. Even if wearing it makes them feel sooo slutty."

She pouted, sitting on her haunches. John studied for a moment then said, "First off, I think Amanda can use third person pronouns."

"Sorry, Master," Amanda said, "Amanda doesn't know what those are because she's so dumb."

"Don't worry about that," John said with a patronizing smile. "I know about them so you don't have to worry about it."

"Ok!" Amanda said happily.

"Now," John said, "it's time to get you looking like a proper whore. Don't you agree?"

"Yay!" Amanda said, clapping her hands together. "I'm going to look like a slut now!"

"Pull your pants back up and stand over there so I can see you," John said, "I want to watch the changes." Amanda bounced up and walked to the indicated area. "First off," John said, "I think your chest is a little too small for your new life."

"Totally!" Amanda said. "They should be, like, totally huge and reaaalllly sensib... snedi... they should tingle a lot when Master touches them! Ooh! I can feel them growing already!"

Despite her baggy clothes, it soon became blatantly obvious Amanda's tits were inflating. It was also obvious from Amanda's little moans that she was enjoying their new sensitivity. John smiled. "Yes," he said. "I think slightly bigger than your head should be sufficient. And don't play with your tits right now, you only have two more orgasms left before..." He trailed off, as if he was stopping himself from saying something.

Amanda didn't seem to notice. "Aw," she said. "That sounds small. Can they at least be big enough for Amanda to give Master a tittyfuck?"

"'Slightly bigger than your head' is more than enough for a tittyfuck," John said with an amused smile.

"Can they be really fake?" Amanda asked as her hoodie began to stretch. "And also can Amanda have a different name when being your slut?"

"Sure to both," John said. "How about Amy?"

"Amy doesn't sound dumb enough," Amanda said. "Can Master call his little slut Mandi?"

"Very well," John said, "your new name is Mandi." Mandi jumped and squealed happily, clapping her hands. "Now turn around, we're going to discuss your ass."

Mandi did as she was told, but slowly, swaying her hips. "Is Master an ass man?" she asked coyly.

"Somewhat," John said. "I think you should have an ass that's slightly bigger than your tits, and just as silicone-filled and sensitive. And your hips should be much wider as well." As he spoke, Mandi pulled her hoodie and the t-shirt forward to reveal her swelling ass. She smiled over her shoulder and continued to slowly shake her hips. John continued speaking. "And your thighs should be very thick and muscled to match. I'm also thinking your stomach should be very toned and your waist much smaller." He paused. "And I want your eye color to change. One gray, one green."

Mandi stopped her sultry swaying and blinked. When she opened them, her black-brown eyes were significantly lighter. "But..." she asked, more confused than usual, "... why my eye color? Why change that?"

"Because you wanted me to change you in a way that pleased me," John said. "This pleases me. Therefore, it will please you."

Mandi considered this, a finger to her now-plump lips as her clothes were stretched by her changing body. The side of her head that was facing John was her right, and that was the side where her eye was turning gray. "Hmmm..." she said. "That makes sense to Mandi." She brightened. "Yeah! That totally makes sense! Thank you for explaining, Master! You're sooo much smarter than Mandi!"

"Now," John said, "Hair and make-up. Turn around and face me."

"Yay!" Mandi said, bouncing as she complied.

By this point, the jeans and hoodie that had been draped tent-like over Amanda were now struggling to contain Mandi's curves. If her t-shirt was visible under her hoodie, you would see that the lettering on it was now warped from her growing tits and her ass and thighs were having an even more dramatic effect on her jeans. The clothes hid most of the jiggling from her joyous bouncing, but not all of it.

"So," John said, "I'm thinking that your hair should be bleached blond and very long."

"How did Master know Mandi wanted that?" Mandi asked, somehow even more happy than she'd previously been. Even now, her hair was starting to change, lightening from her matte, somewhat unhealthy black and growing out from her boyish cut.

"Because Mandi likes being a fake, plastic bimbo," John said.

"Oh yeah," Mandi said with a giggle. Her eyes were now starting to gain emerald and ice blue flecks in them.

"But for hair style today," John said, "I have a look in mind for you. I think your hair today should be a nice, tall bouffant with French braids along the crown."

Mandi pouted. "I thought I was going to be trashy," she whined, a hint of her old self coming through. "Not a fifties housewife..."

"You'll behave trashy," John said. "But you'll like what I have in store for you. Mostly because I'm picking it out for you. First off, makeup." Mandi brightened at that. John continued. "I'm thinking something Goth. Black lipstick, of course, and dark mascara. And dark eyeliner to make your eyes look big and doll-like. To finish off, I think black nail polish would look good on your finger and toenails."

"That does sound pretty, Master," Mandi said as the makeup was applied to her face as though by an invisible hand. Her hair was already arranging itself hill-like above her head and her eyes were now the green and gray dictated by John. The make-up and unusual color had the effect of drawing attention to the stunning lack of intelligence behind them, the exact opposite of how Amanda had been.

"Now for the clothes," John said. "First, that hoodie. I think the sleeves should separate from the main body and become black latex opera gloves. The rest of it should become a black silk shrug that, if you were wearing only it and nothing else, would only cover your nipples, the small of your back, and your shoulders."

"Ooooh!" Mandi said. "It's changing already!" And it was. Her hoodie's hem was lifting and the zipper melting into nothingness. The sleeves separated just an inch or two above her elbow. Above, the grey cotton slowly retreated up her arm to just an inch below her shoulder. It also darkened and became shinier. Meanwhile, the lower area began to tighten and darken. The grey cotton became black and even shinier than her shrug. Mandi flexed her arm as the change happened.

"You love the feel of latex," John said.

"No I-" Mandi said, her voice Amanda's for a second. Then it swapped back to Mandi's. "Huh? What is Mandi saying? It feels soooo slutty and delicious to be all shiny and wrapped up."

"Your jeans," John said.

"Are they gonna be latex too?" Mandi asked eagerly.

"There will be more, but not yet," John said. "They'll be pantyhose. Also, while I'll have you wear nice panties and bras normally, I don't think you'll have any underwear in this outfit. There'll also be some nice holes in the panty hose for me to fuck you through." As he spoke, her loose jeans tightened and thinned while becoming a transparent brown. As they became less opaque, her white cotton boxers became visible. Yet it was also clear that they were dissolving into nothing. The jeans, in the process of becoming pantyhose, tightened around the remnants of the boxers. Then there was a slight ripping sound. It was half-obscured by her shirt, but a hole began forming around her pussy. Another, hidden by her newly-rounded ass, began forming around her anus.

"Meanwhile," John said, "I don't think your shoes are appropriate for your new position, don't you?"

"Noooo," Mandi said. "They, like, totally should be six inches. And Mandi shouldn't be able to walk without heels that high. And Mandi's bum should always sway when she walks."